Lending A Hand
by waterbaby134
Summary: In which Mitch and Jamie actually talk during season 2. They talk, they bond and they sort out their feelings.


**So I recently watched Season 3 on Netflix. I was disappointed that we'll never know what happened after the plane breached the barrier, but I guess that's the way the cookie crumbles sometimes.**

 **As my own personal tribute to a show I really loved, and a couple I shipped from the beginning till the bitter end, here is a fic I've been working on for a while now.**

 **It is set in Season 2, after Jamie and Logan are rescued from Caraquet but before Max arrives and Logan is revealed to be a traitor. A kind of fix-it, if you will, with a happy, fluffy ending.  
**

 **If you read this, please enjoy.**

* * *

The world is ending. The fate of the human race is on a knife's edge, and it's up to Mitch Morgan to avert the disaster. The only weapons he has are the state-of-the-art laboratory on the airplane, and his own knowledge and skill. He is a damn good scientist. He is the best at what he does, and he won't pretend to be modest about that, but for the first time in his life he's not sure that will be enough.

He is in over his head. They all are. Their team of five are all experts in their own fields, but they have never encountered something like this before, where the stakes are this high. They have had their setbacks, and they have suffered losses, but they are slowly working their way towards their goal.

There are days when the pressure gets to be too much, when he snaps at his friends, and drowns himself in alcohol, and there are times when he lies awake for hours, wondering how they're ever going to get through this.

There are few bright spots in this new dismal world, but the one of the biggest bright spots in his life has just begun to descend the staircase.

Jamie Campbell is the kind of woman that teenage Mitch would have lusted after in high school but would have never dared to approach; so far out of his league that it would be laughable to think she'd ever be interested in him. Now high school is far behind him, he is a recognized academic and pathologist and she's _still_ out of his league, and always will be. But he's never exactly been one for following the rules.

And sure, things haven't been the same since the plane crash that took her from him. From the agonizing pain of losing her, to the joy of hearing her voice again, from the heartbreak of having to leave her behind, to the pure elation of holding her in his arms, the whole thing has been a rollercoaster. And she's been acting so strangely since she came back, like she hates the world, like he's the enemy. That hurts more than anything; that she either doesn't know or worse, doesn't care that there's nothing he wouldn't do for her.

It's not as though it's a secret. The others all know it. Logan knows it. Hell, he and Alison have a romantic history complicated enough to fill several books, but he's pretty sure even she knows that he'd drop her like a hot potato the moment Jamie showed interest again.

And that's the most frustrating part of all. They were _so close._ He'd managed to find the words to tell her a little of what she meant to him. They enjoyed being in each other's company. They'd kissed, for God's sake, and it was an amazing kiss. They looked out for each other. They just _fit,_ even though they should have had next to nothing in common.

He misses that. He truly does. Because he's been dealing with the new, sullen Jamie ever since they picked her and Logan up in Caraquet. He's tried to be understanding, to give her space, to be her emotional punching bag. He's allowed Logan a place on the team (despite his better judgment) because that's what she wants. He doesn't like the guy, doesn't trust him, and quite frankly, doesn't want him anywhere near Jamie, but in the absence of any evidence beyond his own jealousy-fuelled dislike, he'll put up with him, for her sake.

Nothing works, however, and sometimes he wonders if he should just back off and let her wallow in her misery. There's only so much rejection a man can stand, after all.

But damn it, she still takes his breath away when she walks into a room.

'Hey," she greets him, unenthusiastically, like one greets a distant relative at a barbecue, and that irks him. This is his lab, his space. She doesn't get to treat him as though he's an inconvenience just for being here. He opens his mouth to tell her so.

"Hey, yourself. How are you feeling?"

Instead of the scathing remark anyone else would have received, she gets this polite enquiry. Because it's _her_ , and because even though he's annoyed with her, he still cares.

She shrugs. "Fine, I guess. I don't know."

God how he misses the days when she used to actually talk to him. Like when she told him about her mother, or in the bar just after they'd met with that jackhole senator. She used to trust him with what was on her mind. These days she barely even looks at him if she can avoid it.

She wanders around his lab, peering at things on slides and at samples bubbling away, and he wonders what she's come for. Clearly it isn't to talk, or God forbid, let him help her. She looks the way she always looks these days, a combination of angry, sad, and just done with the world. He doesn't remember the last time he saw her smile.

Oh, wait. Yes he does. Yesterday. During breakfast. At Logan.

That had hurt. There was no getting around that, and some of his distress must have shown on his face, because he'd caught Abe giving him those sympathetic looks he usually reserves for Jackson. He is still grieving Chloe deeply enough that he doesn't particularly care for much else.

She continues to rifle through his stuff, and it if were anybody but her, he'd be getting seriously annoyed by now. He has always kept his lab equipment in a particular configuration, which he guarded jealously from colleagues or grad students when forced to share his space. He distinctly remembers almost reducing a young girl to tears, just after he'd started teaching, because she'd put the test tubes back in the drawer where the beakers should go. Not his finest moment, and it's one of the few incidents that managed to draw a genuine apology from him.

The girl had been understanding, graciously accepted his apology, and hadn't taken it any further. He'd been impressed at her composure and maturity, and made a point of vouching for her when she applied for a research grant a few years later. He'd owed it to her.

It had been around that time that he and Audra had fallen apart too. Go figure.

But that's neither here nor there now.

Jamie shows no sign that she wants to talk or engage with him in any way, so for the umpteenth time since they got her back, he bites back his frustration. Instead, he turns his attention to the results of a diagnostic test he's just finished running, to try and isolate any genetic clue as to what the last remaining triple helix animal could be.

A few silent minutes pass, and as he studies the screen he gets absorbed enough to _almost_ forget that she's there. He's always been able to focus on a task (some people have argued that he gets a little too focused i.e. obsessive,) but ever since he met Jamie he finds he is hyper aware of her presence, whenever she is near. He can hear her still moving around, and appreciates dully that at least if she's in here, she's not with Logan.

Mitch doesn't trust him as far as he could throw him (which, if he had the option, would be right off the plane.) It's not just because he's jealous, though that's a large part of it, it's something about his manner, the way he walks, the way he always seems to be lurking in the background. It's something in his eyes when they're discussing their plans. It's the way he looks at Jamie.

It's the way she looks at him, the way she used to look at Mitch. Like he was someone she could depend on, trust. Someone she cared about.

Mitch is in love with her. He doesn't know when it happened, or how, but he knows it to be as true as the fact that they are running out of time to save the world. He didn't really think he was capable of such a thing, after his less-than-stellar track record with the women in his life, but it seems he was wrong. It just had to be the right person.

He knows with utter certainty that she _is_ the right person. He thinks he probably knew it the first day they met, somehow. There's no tangible, scientific way of proving it, but he _knows_. She is it for him, however this ends up playing out. But maybe, he is not the right person for her. Let's face it, he comes with baggage, in the form of an ex-wife, a sick daughter and crippling father issues that have overshadowed his whole life. And also, on top of all this, he's kind of a jerk. Sure, he's soft on Jamie, but she's a special case. To the rest of the world, Mitch Morgan is a belligerent, arrogant ass with a big mouth and an ego to match.

A catch? Hardly.

Jamie, on the other hand, is young, smart, and beautiful. She still has her whole life ahead of her. If they somehow manage to cure the animals and save the world, she can go on with a clean slate. Maybe that's what she wants. Maybe Logan can give her that; he doesn't know because he makes a point of being in the other man's presence as little as possible.

She puts down whatever she was holding with a soft chink, and steps up beside him to see what he is doing.

"How do you even make sense of all this?" she asks, as she watches numbers and data fly across the screen.

"I'm a scientist. Diagnostic tests are my bread and butter."

"Find anything yet?"

He pushes his glasses further up his nose with a sigh. "So far I've compiled a very extensive list of what it isn't. But I'm not really getting very far with figuring out what it _is._ "

"You will." It's quiet, but confident, and stupidly, he feels his heart swell. She still believes in him. That counts for something.

"You can do anything, Mitch," she goes on, and he is hanging onto her every word. "I know you can."

"Well, that makes one of us, then," he says.

"Don't do that." She sounds a little angry now. "You and I both know if there's a way to do this, you'll find it."

He finally tears his eyes from the screen and looks at her. She is standing beside his chair, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. She looks a little surprised when their eyes meet.

"Not that I'm not enjoying this surge of praise, but where's this coming from, all of a sudden?" he wants to know. This is the most she's actually spoken to him since she got back.

This was apparently the wrong thing to say. She recoils at the question, and immediately shuffles back a few steps to put some space between them. This is the exact opposite of what he wants, so he hastily tries to get by the tense moment before she flees the lab, and presumably straight into Logan's arms. Of course, he hasn't actually _seen_ them doing anything romantic, but he can only suppose that's what they're up to when they're cozied up together all the time. Logan certainly wants to, at any rate. He's not altogether sure where Jamie stands on the issue, and he knows better than to ask.

To try and put a stop to her retreat, he grabs a computer printout and brandishes it at her, counting on her innate curiosity to stop her in her tracks. It works; she pauses and takes the paper from him, studying the list of animals he has so far eliminated. In addition to trying to locate the last triple helix animal, he's also trying to synthesise a formula for the cure. It won't do them much good if they get this mystery DNA and don't have anything to add it to. But there are so many problems, and it seems like every time he comes up with a solution to one, he then discovers at least three more.

His frustration must be showing, because she frowns sympathetically.

"You should take a break," she says, and he's glad she's talking to him again.

"No time," he replies. "Too much to do. I gotta prepare samples, check and record results, and still try and figure out what damn animal we're chasing next. I'm brilliant, Jamie, but I'm not Superman. This is a lot for one person to do."

Her lips quirk upwards at the 'brilliant' comment, and for a moment it feels like it did before the plane crash. When they were a team, when he didn't realise how he felt about her. He used to wonder back then why he couldn't seem to keep his eyes on the task when she walked into the room. No matter how puzzling the job, no matter how intriguing the mystery, he found her to be unfailingly distracting. After a while he'd found that he didn't mind being distracted by her. The rest is history.

"I don't think you're Superman," she says, tilting her head and studying him a little. "I think Iron Man is a better fit for you."

"Is it my debonair good looks?" he quips, and is pleased to see her smile again.

"I was thinking more along the lines of the science genius and the big mouth, but sure," she says, with a little chuckle. "If the shoe fits."

This easiness between them is so achingly reminiscent of how they used to be, he can't bear to continue the conversation. It'll sting too much when she retreats again. He turns back to the sample instead.

"Anything I can do to help?" she offers.

As it happens, there is. There's an experiment he wants to do on a glass-creating snake he took from Allison's farm. It's doable with one person, but easier with two, and also, he likes the idea of them working together again.

"Yes actually," he answers and she looks a little surprised at his easy acquiescence. "You ready?"

* * *

The job Mitch has given her is simple, just to hold the beaker steady while he tries to control the snake with one hand and take the sample with the other. He's taken samples from far bigger, more volatile creatures (a certain incident with a bear comes to mind) without assistance, but she's pleased to see that he's not so arrogant as to turn away an extra set of hands when they're available. An extra set of eyes too, is always useful when dealing with live and therefore unpredictable, subjects.

She hovers close beside him as he fusses over the snake, swearing under his breath as it writhes and coils, trying to escape. Despite this, he's handling it gently, delicately, and she knows that it's not just because it's a triple helix animal, but also because at the end of the day, it's an animal. She's seen him perform all sorts of tests on a veritable menagerie of animals, and he handles them all in this same careful way. Despite the destruction these animals have caused, he never wants to do them harm if he can avoid it. Under all the bluster and grouchiness, there's a man who genuinely does love animals more than people, with two notable exceptions, being Clementine…and herself.

It's only a suspicion at this stage, but it's a strong one. He has always treated her differently to the others, actively seeks her company, is protective, less irritable with her than with the others. He seems to despise Logan with a passion; she's caught him glaring at them both on numerous occasions. And sometimes, when he thinks she's not looking, he looks at her in a way nobody else has before.

As for her, she's still dealing with so much that she's not really sure how she feels about anything anymore. But she knows she's always felt safe with him. She knows she missed him the most while she was lost. She knows she was the one who initiated that kiss. She knows that the moment she got her hands on a phone her first instinct was to call _him_ , and not Chloe, who was the leader at the time, and probably in more of a position to get things done. She knows that that more anything, she wanted to hear his voice. She knows that seeing him again was the most wonderful feeling she's ever experienced.

But things have changed. She is angry, all the time, and sometimes she doesn't even know why. Chloe is dead and he is the leader now, which she can tell he hates. He is already under so much pressure and now Allison has piled on even more. And to be honest, she herself probably hasn't done much to lighten the load for him. He is the target of a lot of her anger, whether he deserves it or not. Probably because deep down, she knows he will forgive her. She's a little ashamed of herself for that.

The snake twists its body suddenly, and attempts to strike Mitch's hand. He curses as he jerks it out of the way just in time.

He glowers at it. "All right, you little bastard, you're getting sedated. Jamie, hand me that syringe will you?"

She does as he asks, and looks on as he injects the writhing snake with the sedative. After a minute or two, it begins to work and soon the snake is immobile on the bench.

"Why didn't you just do that at the start?' she asks.

"I wanted to save it as a last resort," he snaps. "We've only got a finite amount of this stuff and if we run out, we're screwed."

She hasn't considered that. She's always just taken it for granted that they'll have as many tranqs as they need, and that if they do run out Mitch can whip up a substitute in the lab. She's seen him do so many incredible things that she's gotten to thinking that there's nothing he can't do. He managed to make a cure based off 'half a theory' as he put it, which nobody else in the world has achieved. He has identified the triple helix animals (save one.) He has performed emergency surgery in the field several times that has saved lives. He has come through for them, time and time again. Whenever they hit a problem, he solves it, one way or another.

She is both awed and intimidated by his brilliance, not to mention she is unbelievably proud of him.

He glances up from the snake, sees her watching him, and his gruff manner softens. He does that a lot when he looks at her, she realises. She missed that, when they were separated.

"Come here," he says softly. "I'll teach you how to draw the sample, and then stitch him back up again."

"Why?"

"If you can do it on a snake, it'll be easier to do it on a human," he explains. "At the moment, I am the only one on this team who knows how to suture. If something happens to me, you guys are sunk. Or rather, I am, because I'll bleed out before you figure out what to do."

"Jackson and Abe-"

"Know the basics," he cuts in, calmly. "They know enough first aid to do a rough patch job. But sometimes it pays to know how to do things properly."

He holds his hand out to her as though extending an invitation, and she spots a flash of hope in his eyes. They've spent a lot of time bonding in labs since this all started; typically, he works and she watches, but now he's offering to share something with her, a piece of his world. He wants to get them back on track.

* * *

Jamie hesitates, and Mitch wonders if he made a bad decision. This is not how they do things. She probably doesn't want to help, she just wants answers, and why shouldn't she? The science stuff is _his_ job. Why would she be interested?

But, as ever, Jamie Campbell surprises him. She smiles, takes his hand, and he resists the urge to pull her into his arms and never let her go again. That would be too much, too soon.

She joins him at the table, watches him make an incision, and then reaches for the beaker to deposit the sample in. He hands her the forceps.

"Take your time," he instructs, quietly. "Keep your hand steady."

She furrows her brow in concentration, as she carefully extracts some of the glass the mutant snakes produce and drops it into the beaker. She looks to him for his assessment.

"Nice job," he says. "We'll make a doctor out of you yet, Campbell."

She chuckles. "Not likely."

"Okay that was the easy part. Now let's stitch him up."

He spends the next few minutes talking her through the procedure, and stays close by her side as she attempts the task. After a few moments, he finds himself reaching over to steady her shaking hands, an action that sends a jolt of electricity through his body. It's biological proof that even after all that's happened, he still wants her. As if he didn't already know.

He wonders if he imagines the sharp intake of breath she takes when they touch, as though she felt something too. He doesn't dare ask.

He's much too close. Standing beside her, murmuring instructions in her ear, gently correcting her when she looks like she's about to make a mistake. He reaches around her for something and suddenly he's all around her, and she finds she quite likes it. There's something about his closeness that makes her feel secure; it's why she ran to him first in Caraquet, why when the leopards surrounded them in Zambia, she automatically leapt to his side. Ordinarily, she hates it when men assume she's weak and needs protection, but she doesn't mind so much when it comes from him. He _knows_ she can handle herself, but he wants to protect her anyway. It's actually kind of nice.

"You're doing great," he says now, adjusting the tool in her hand ever so slightly. "Just take it slow." His touch is gentle, reverent, like he's handling something precious. She glances up at him and their eyes meet. Something unspoken seems to hang in the air, as they both wait for the other to do what they themselves don't dare.

Neither does. Then one of the machines makes an impatient bleeping sound, and the moment passes them by.

She finds she's bitterly disappointed, and can tell he is too. Even though it would have made things even more complicated, she wanted it to happen. She's sure of that.

Silently, he guides her in the task until their snake is now sporting an uneven row of stitches on its belly, and twitching around in a way that indicates the sedative is wearing off. Without thinking, he gently nudges Jamie aside, for fear it will wake up suddenly and attempt to bite her. He transfers it back into its tank, and closes the lid.

She's watching him with half a smile on her face.

"Kind of feels like old times, doesn't it?" she asks. "You and me, in the lab. Saving the world. I missed this, when I was gone."

It's on the tip of his tongue to agree with her, to tell her the precise details of the downward spiral he was in the whole time she was gone, but then Jackson appears at the top of the stairs, and Mitch's focus immediately turns to him.

Jackson looks terrible, like he hasn't showered or shaved in days. He knows for a fact that he hasn't been eating either, because he's heard Abraham pleading with his best friend to at least try and keep something down. He knows how Jackson is feeling right now, knows because he's been there, has lived it. But for once in his life, Mitch was lucky. He got the miracle; he got Jamie back. He is grateful for it every day, even when she's yelling at him.

"Logan's looking for you," Jackson informs Jamie, dispiritedly, and then turns to Mitch. "And Allison wants to talk to you about something too." Before either of them can say or do anything, he disappears again.

"Duty calls," says Mitch sarcastically, mock-saluting the now-empty stairwell. "I better go see what our fearless leader wants this time." He heaves a great sigh, and is surprised to see Jamie frowning at him. "What?"

"You're the boss, Mitch. Not her. You don't answer to her."

He chuckles. "She's providing the plane, and the resources, Jamie. We _all_ answer to her. Without Allison _this_ ," he gestures around the plane, "doesn't exist."

"Not true. Any idiot can throw money around to try and fix a problem. You're the one who is figuring out the puzzle, and making the cure. You've already done it once; all on your own, without all the fancy equipment and crap she's bought you. Take the credit you're owed."

He's not entirely sure how to respond to this, not least because this is probably the first time anyone has ever accused him of _not_ having an ego about something.

"I'm just saying," Jamie goes on, "we got on fine without Allison before, and if it comes to it, we can do it again. She's not the invaluable one here."

She smiles at him, and brushes past him on her way up the stairs. He's a little wrong-footed. That was probably the nicest thing she has said to him since she has been back. And that moment they had, surely he wasn't the only one who felt that electricity between them.

He should have kissed her. He's been wanting to ever since she got back, but there has always been a problem or a development, and there are _always_ people around.

The plane's PA system activates then. It's Allison, not so politely requesting his presence, so he has to put thoughts of Jamie aside and go do his 'team leader' thing. The fate of the world is in the balance. His love life will just have to wait.

* * *

It's late at night. Jamie is in the bar alone, nursing a scotch and listening to the low hum of the engines as they fly to God knows where. Everyone else has gone to bed already. She relishes the solitude. As glad as she is to be back with the team, it's good to get a little peace and quiet now and then.

She thinks about Mitch, and their charged little moment down in the lab. They had both wanted something to happen; she could feel it.

"Jamie?"

He's standing in the doorway, watching her carefully, and she realises he's expecting her to snap at him. She immediately resolves to get better control of her temper, especially where he is concerned. None of this is his fault.

She smiles warmly at him. "Hey."

He takes this as encouragement to enter the room and takes a seat next to her. He pours himself a generous helping of whiskey, knocks it back, and then immediately pours another, and drains that, too. This is unusual. He enjoys a drink, sure, but he doesn't normally slam them down like this. He's not meeting her eye. His fingers are tapping on the side of his glass. Something is bothering him.

She watches as he throws back a third whiskey, and now she's starting to get concerned.

"Mitch, what's wrong? Possibility after horrible possibility comes to her head. He's hit another roadblock with the cure, the Noah Objective has been brought forward, something is wrong with Jackson or one of the others, he's finally kicking her off the team for being such a pain…

"I'm okay," he says. "It's just, I promised myself if I ever got to see you again, I'd tell you something…and now I'm not sure if I can."

"You can tell me anything."

He chuckles darkly. "I don't know if this is something you're going to want to hear."

"Tell me anyway."

He takes in a long, steadying breath. She doesn't think she's ever seen him so rattled before this, he has a temper, yes, and can complain with the best of them, but he's generally pretty good at rolling with the punches.

"When you were gone," he begins, "I wasn't doing so well. Believe it or not, I was actually kind of unpleasant to be around." He says this with an air of affected surprise, and she smiles a little at his attempt at humour.

"You? Never."

"Seriously Jamie," he goes on, all joking aside. "Along with Clem's diagnosis and some nice emotional scarring from my teen years I won't go into, those few months were probably the lowest point of my life." For the first time, he looks her in the eyes. "I missed you like hell."

She's tempted to interject here and tell him how much she missed him too, but at the same time, she knows if she interrupts and puts him off his stride, he'll probably never say what she thinks (hopes) he's trying to say. And God, does she want to hear it.

"But now, since you've been back, things just haven't been the same with you and me. Maybe things have changed for you, since Zambia. But not for me."

This is not like Mitch, to speak in riddles. Usually he is honest and upfront to the point of being flat-out rude, which is something she has always liked about him; that there's no bullshit. So it confuses her that he is being so cryptic. Some of her confusion must show on her face, because he heaves a deep sigh, removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I'm making a trainwreck of this," he says, more to himself than her she thinks, but then slowly meets her eyes again. "I guess what I want to know is if there's ever going to be a chance for…you know, _us_. Doesn't have to be now, doesn't even have to be soon, but if you could just do me a favour and tell me right now if I'm fighting a losing battle here, that'd be great."

Now she is the one that can't look at him, and she ducks her head in embarrassment, wondering if she's interpreting his words correctly. But then he spells it out for her.

"What I want, how I _feel_ , is not going to change, Jamie. If I have to wait, I'll wait. As long as it takes. But I have to know there's something worth waiting for."

Okay, so he hasn't actually said _them_ , the big three words everyone wants to hear at least once in their life, but he has made his meaning perfectly clear. After all, this is Mitch. He never does things the easy or the conventional way. Why would this be any different?

"Mitch, I-"

The right words don't immediately come to her. She hesitates, and he misinterprets the hesitation as a rejection. She can practically _see_ him retreat back into himself, and he gets up off his seat ready to make a hasty exit.

She has to stop him. She reaches for his hand, and he freezes just as he's about to make a break for the door. She has a feeling the next thing she says is going to be crucial.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. "I'm sorry for everything I've put you through since I came back. And I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you about it. I missed you so much when I was gone I could barely stand it. Every day I was expecting you to materialise out of nowhere and find me. And then you didn't."

He opens his mouth to protest, but she swiftly cuts him off.

"I know it wasn't your fault. I know you did everything you could, and that you _did_ find me in the end. My head's been messed up, what with the cure not working and losing Chloe and all the other bullshit. But you have always been important to me, Mitch. That kiss wasn't an accident. And today, in the lab, we had a moment. I know you felt it. I felt it too."

She sees the hope in his eyes, and a slight lift in his demeanour and marvels at the fact that she could have such an effect on him. He really does care about her, maybe even loves her. It's a thrilling thought.

"Whatever this is, that you and I have got, I want it," she says, and it feels good to say it out loud. "I don't want to miss it. Just be patient with me a little longer, Mitch. Okay?"

"What about Logan?"

The question comes tumbling out as though he is physically unable to stop it, and she almost wants to smile. Logan is her friend, she can count on him, but she gave her heart away long before she met him. There's really no competition.

"I want _you_ ," she says, firmly.

She's not sure which one of them starts it. Maybe it's both of them. But before she knows it, he's in her arms, he's cupping her cheek and he's kissing her like his life depends on it. And this time, there is no interruption, no nosy teammates, and no genetically mutated birds. There is just the two of them, with all the time in the world.

It starts off tenderly, but as it continues, starts to morph into something a little more passionate. He's running his fingers through her hair, nipping at her neck and collarbone, and she's starting to lose herself in the pleasure of his touch. She's not at all surprised that he's good at this; she's seen for herself just what he can do with his hands. This is very quickly heading down a path she's not sure they're ready for just yet, but she's not sure she can find the will to stop.

There have been several instances since they met when she has wondered if Mitch can read her mind. Certainly, they are on the same wavelength. She thinks it's a big reason why they got attached to each other so fast. He proves this once again now, as he gently (and reluctantly) breaks off the kiss.

"To be continued," he says, a little breathlessly. "When you're ready."

She squeezes his hand, grateful that he seems to understand. "Thanks."

He presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

"You're turning me into a soft touch," he complains.

She laughs a little, picturing his scowls, snark, and general irritation with the world at large. "I don't think there's much danger of that," she says.

"Are you kidding me? I'm _talking_ about my _feelings_." He sounds so disgusted by the idea she has to stifle another laugh, but she can hear the affectionate, teasing undertone in there that he only uses with her. "I knew I was in trouble the moment I saw you," he goes on. "I should have gotten out then."

"Hate to break it to you, Doc, but it's too late now."

She's expecting him to smirk, but instead he looks at her so softly, and with so much tenderness, she feels her heart skip a beat.

"Far too late," he agrees.

He walks her to her room, waits as she steps inside. She can't resist coming back out to give him a long kiss goodnight, just because it feels so good to know she now has licence to kiss him whenever she wants. He must feel the same way because the moment she pulls back from the kiss, he tugs her back into his arms for another one.

"Mitch…" She'll admit, she doesn't try all that hard to push him away, by which she means she gives him a half-hearted little shove as she happily kisses him back.

"I know, I know." Each word is punctuated with another kiss. "You just have _no_ idea how long-"

"I do." She stops kissing him, straightens his collar and gives his hair a little tug so he'll look at her. "I really do."

She loves him. She's pretty damn sure he loves her too. But they'll get to that.

After they save the world.

* * *

 **And as we all know, everything went to hell after that. But I liked the idea of them having at least one nice moment before that ten-year separation. Thanks for reading this story, if you did. I really hope you enjoyed it**


End file.
